


Everyone's Forgotten Me

by BarracudaHeart



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Police, Bullying, Child Death, Drowning, Gen, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'"For ten years, I've been looking for someone to help me. Nobody cared enough to look for me when I was gone, then forgot me when they pretended to grieve," he mumbled, not even looking at the officer's shocked, slightly terrified face.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Steven Universe fans! I've decided to write a short story based on a drabble from my LarSadie collection('Drabbles for Dorks with Doughnuts), and I picked the one titled 'Ghost'. I don't exactly know how many chapters there are going to be, but probably no more than 6, I want to make this kind of a short, spooky tale. There's a little bit of shipping, but not not an extravagant amount.  
> Short Summary: Sadie is a police officer who is approached by the ghost of a dead child who wants justice.
> 
> And because this is a Human AU, Steven and the Crystal Gems are human too.
> 
> Enjoy!

_The hurried pattering of feet down the dirt road from Dead Man's Mouth couldn't be heard unless someone were to be within earshot of it. And nobody was. So nobody would see the fleeing group of children, horror and fear struck on their faces._  
Nobody had known what had happened in the late afternoon on that cold autumn day along the coastline of the DelMarVa area until a worried mother would notify police that her child never came home that afternoon.  
Nobody would know where that child would have gone, and nobody would step forward and say anything if they did.  
Nobody would volunteer to help find the child unless prodded by their charismatic, opportunistic mayor.  
Somebody would find the child's bike submerged in the moss infested water of Dead Man's Mouth, but nobody would dare search deeper in the water to find the unfortunate end of the missing youth.  
Nobody wanted to notify the mother of the discovery of the body at the bottom of the pond, and certainly, nobody wanted to be the one to tell her that is was her child, once identified. Somebody eventually did, but then nobody wanted to be the one to offer comfort, having no relation to her or acquaintance.  
Somebody came to the funeral, but only out of familial obligation, and they didn't understand what had happened.  
Nobody bid the child a peaceful slumber in eternal resting.  
Nobody spoke when the mother asked why somebody didn't come.  
Everybody pretended they no longer knew the mother or the child.  
That child suffered because of everybody.

* * *

After nearly nine years on the squad, it was pretty easy for Private Investigation Officer Sadie Carmichael to say that not much crime happened in Beach City. Aside from a few miscreants here and there, nobody really caused trouble in the town itself. Sadie's merits came from the work she did in other towns, often getting transferred to their departments for help, her superiors always recommending her for her hard work, diligence, and intellect. She usually managed to get her cases solved in what could be called record times. But then again, her cases were mostly theft, fraud, and the like, which she found easy to solve. They usually weren't too mysterious. That was ok though. She liked her job anyway. She could always get mystery from her collection of murder-case novels, curled in her favorite chair while munching on oyster crackers.

One late afternoon, her shift over, Sadie clocked out, and headed out towards her tiny, beat up red jeep parked behind the station, only to hear the jangling and clanging of cans being smacked together. She looked over to see an empty soda can get tossed at a stack of other cans, toppling them over. A lanky, rough looking youth with a strange mohawk hairstyle and plug piercings stomped on the can, kicking it across the lot. The officer frowned as she spoke aloud, "Hey, you really shouldn't be doing that, those cans go in the dumpster, Ok?"

The other seemed to flinch in shock at being addressed looking up with a surprised face, only for it to curl with an unkind snarl, flame colored hair bright against his impossibly pale skin, as he snapped, "Not your business, lady."

Sadie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, "I'd say it is my business, considering this is the police station's property, and I'm an officer."

The other stood to full height, well over a foot taller than her, glare deepening, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she frowned, voice still calm, "Now pick up those cans, and find somewhere else to hang around, please."

"Y'can't make me," he grumbled, folding his arms like a disagreeable child.

"I can, and I will. Want to see if the handcuffs will fit?" Sadie challenged, stepping forward, inches away from him, hands prepped to defend in case he pulled a weapon, or attacked.

The other looked at the short blonde in her uniform, and then seemed to stare at himself in his ragged skater clothes, and scowled, "Whatever," and chucked the cans in the dumpster, stomping off, looking more shaken up than anything else then.

Sadie smiled, thinking she got through to the punk, and climbed in her little car, driving away, unaware the scowling gaze was still fixed on her as she left the station, the shocked, ugly glare was slowly turning to a contemplative expression of thought.

* * *

Spending the rest of the evening at home was always a nice thing, especially for Sadie, who found that if her days weren't eventful, she grew anxious in public, and liked to curl up in her cozy old house. She grinned as she unlocked the door to her rented, rundown beachside flat, and was greeted by the patter of fat white paws, and a hungry meow from her cat, Melvin. She grinned, scooping him up, "Hi Melv baby! How's my big fat fluffball?"  
Getting a purr as a response, she filled his food dish, and looked through her cupboard for her own dinner. Settling on a box of stovetop pasta, she got to cooking, adding the right ingredients, and soon, was at her solitary table, eating contently. It didn't bother her to be living alone, she really liked it actually. It was simple, and not too troubling.

Once dinner was over, Sadie decided to settle on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and watch evening programs, like Canine Court, even if it was only reruns. It kept her occupied. She managed to doze off a bit when Melvin climbed onto her chest, using her as his bed.

It was her life, and she was content with it.

* * *

Around three AM, the telephone rang, and she answered, mind still foggy, thinking it was either morning or early evening, answering with a groggy 'hello'. She was immediately answered by a  _very_  loud burst of static, giving a yelp as she nearly dropped the phone, and put it to her ear again, slightly nervous. All that she then heard was the dial tone.

Figuring it was a prank call, or a wrong number, she hung up, and went back to bed, groaning as she realized how she was now wired. She pulled Melvin up from the couch, and curled with him, closing her eyes at least two hours later, swearing that she'd  _just_  fallen back to sleep when her 5AM alarm rang. Smacking her alarm clock, she got up, dressing for work before putting oatmeal on the stove, and went to get the morning paper. She thought nothing initially as she found a manila envelope on top of her newspaper, putting it down on the table as she ate breakfast, but midway through her bowl of oatmeal, she opened the envelope, and found wrinkled old news articles describing what Sadie could quickly scan from the headlines as a drowning accident, and a surprisingly neatly written note on almost perfect paper slipped between the articles.

_This was no accident. I will see you at the station today. Nobody else will see me._

At first, Sadie was thinking it was from her commander, but seeing it wasn't his handwriting, she realized it was going to be a stranger, and this genuinely creeped her out. Especially the last sentence, 'Nobody else will see me." That was just crazy cryptic to her.

For sake of maybe being less confused, Sadie decided to read through the articles. The first thing that she caught, the thing she always checked first, was the date of the articles. She was surprised to find that all of them were dated to a little more than ten years ago, and now Sadie was wondering why she didn't know about this now. She then read the most concise article first, perusing it carefully;

_Tragedy has struck Beach City with the death of a young boy as a result of a freak accident. 7 year Larson Chang had just started the second grade this fall at Coastline Elementary when he disappeared last week. His body was found in Dead Man's Mouth on Thursday evening. Police have concluded that he had been riding his bicycle across the bridge over the pond when it collapsed and sent him into the water. No signs of foul play were discovered._

Sadie felt a strong sense of sadness reading the article. The poor boy was only seven. She was just finishing middle school then. If he'd not died, he would be at least seventeen or eighteen. She always got upset when kids were hurt, it just bugged her. She found a photograph in the mass of articles of a small boy posing for his mother on the beach, dark wild hair in his face, smiling innocently. He looked so sweet, Sadie thought, and it made her heart sink more. How his family must have grieved. She hoped that he was in a better place now. Looking through the articles, she found no information on his family, his burial, or a formalized obituary, as if his existence ended with the notice of an accident in the city. Or what was said to be an accident. Sadie would evidently find out more at work today.

* * *

Finishing her breakfast, she repackaged the articles and photographs, driving to the police station, slightly enjoying the sunrise as it streaked the water with orange and pink gleams. Bidding a hasty good morning to her commander, she went to her office, sitting down, feeling slightly anxious, wondering who would be visiting her for this case, and why they were so creepy in their letter.

The clock ticked, one hour passing, and no visitor. Sadie had tried to write a report for a minor robbery she'd handled three days before, but her hand was shaking too much, growing worried as to if she was in danger or not, not wanting to pull a weapon on anyone. She'd honestly never had to fire a gun at anyone, and never wanted to, feeling it was unnecessary.

After two hours passed, she got up to talk to her supervisor about locking her door, when she opened it, and standing inches away was the sullen looking punk from the day before. Sadie held back a gasp, absolutely startled, "What on earth are you doing in here?", she whispered harshly, "Do you realize this is the police station?"

"Yeah, no shit," he mumbled, sneering, and stretched his leg forward to step past her, inside her office. She was about to snap at him to get out, thinking he was here to pester her for the other day, only to see him sit right in the chair across from her own, and fiddled with his hands, slumping lazily in his seat, "So, ya gonna sit down to talk to me, or what, lady? I'm here, and ready to spill," he spoke obnoxiously.

Giving a groan, she sighed, "What are you here for? If it's about yesterday, I was telling you not to cause such a mess in the station parking lot, nothing personal, ok?", she huffed, crossing her arms.

"I'm not here for that, stupid," he spoke daringly, "I'm here about the envelope I sent you."

"Don't you call me stu-", she began absolutely infuriated, but then stopped, pausing, "...envelope? About the drowned boy? You sent me that?"

"Yeah, no duh," he snorted, "It was no accident, and I can prove everything," he spoke with certainty, picking at his teeth with his finger, his clothes grungy and looking unwashed for a while, "You can help me, right?"

Sadie stared at the other in surprise, then mumbled, "Sir, this case is at least ten years old..."

"And?", he asked, "For ten years, there was injustice. You can help stop it," he mumbled, sitting up, staring right in her eyes with utmost seriousness, "Think of that poor kid, will ya?"

Biting her lip, Sadie got up, and began to pace slowly, "Well...you'd have to provide me with every piece of evidence that you have. Be it witnesses, materials, or documents. Otherwise, you have no case, understood?"

The other gave a small nod, looking tired if anything, as if he hadn't slept in weeks, "...ok...thanks," he mumbled, probably the first 'polite' thing he'd said in their entire time of interaction.

"You're welcome," Sadie smiled helpfully, "Now, could I get a name from you?"

"Does it really matter?", the individual spoke, looking slightly anxious now.

"Well for credibility, I need your name, ID, and any other documents you have on you," she listed, pulling out a document for him to fill out, and handed him a pen, jolting with shivers when she felt how  _cold_  his hand was just by brushing against hers.

He bit his lip, chewing the dry looking skin a bit, and looked up, "I...never mind," he mumbled, trying to get up, "Forget it."

"Wh-what?" Sadie gasped, shocked by his sudden change of mind, "But I just need your-"

"I don't have an ID or anything," he admitted, "I haven't for ten years."

Before the officer could say anything, he relaxed back in the chair, staring at his lap, speaking softly, "For ten years, I've been looking for someone to help me. Nobody cared enough to look for me when I was gone, then forgot me when they pretended to grieve," he mumbled, not even looking at the officer's shocked, slightly terrified face.

"L-Larson?", she choked out in astonishment, looking ready to drop, "Y-You're-"

"Call me Lars," he requested with a mirthless chuckle.

* * *

"I'm surprised you, of all people, actually saw me. Usually, nobody sees me, and if they do, they don't think anything of it," the one identifying as Lars murmured, leaning on one elbow.

Still flabbergasted, Sadie tried to open her mouth to say something, only for the other to continue, "See, if you tell people your star witness is a dead guy, they're gonna tell you that you're full of crap," he snorted, "You're gonna have to be creative. Tell 'em you found an anomaly in the report or whatever it is you police say when you screw up."

"Y-you're a  _ghost_!", Sadie finally choked with a squeak, turning white.

"Woah, don't you be one too!", Lars yelped obnoxiously, seeing her ready to pass out, "It's not that big of a deal! I'm just...dead!", he settled, having no way else to put it.

"But that doesn't make sense! Larson Chang was only seven! You're too old!"

"You do realize ghosts can age if they wanna, don't you lady? I can do what I want, when I want", he sneered, folding his arms.

"Well, then age into a boy! Prove it!", Sadie demanded, overwhelmed by this.

Before Lars could respond, Sadie's superior walked in, "Carmichael, you have the robbery report done?"

"U-uh, no sir, I'm busy dealing with this client here," she pointed to Lars in the chair, the strange man seeming unfazed by the officer, picking at his dry lip.

The older man looked at Sadie, "Carmichael, you trying to tell a joke?", he snorted, seeing nobody in the chair.

Turning pale, realizing Lars wasn't joking with her, Sadie weakly laughed, trying not to panic, "Y-yeah sir. A joke..."

Laughing, he then ordered the report in the next hour, leaving her office. Still pale, she stared at Lars, frozen by his smug grin, not even reacting when he sneered, "Told ya."

"...I'm going to need evidence," she spoke flatly, turning away from her desk, leaning against the windowsill, "Everything you have. If you leave something out, then I can't help you."

"Yeah. No problem," Lars murmured, sounding a little nervous, "Can I take you to Dead Man's Mouth tomorrow? And show you everything?"

"...I guess I have to go there anyway," she sighed, still not facing him, "I need to get some work done, so maybe you should sit tight until then, ok?", she asked, and trying to prove trustworthy to him, spoke with a tiny smile, "You can call me Officer Carmichael, or Sadie, ok?"

When he didn't respond, she looked up, and found the chair was empty.


	2. Chapter 2

Sadie didn't realize she'd been staring at the photograph of her deceased client for a full hour until the clock chimed seven. She'd been staring at it ever since she'd gotten home, not having been in the mood to cuddle Melvin or make dinner for herself quite yet, having had no appetite. She was growing curious into how the sweet child in the photograph had decided to become such a surly punk in death. She had many questions to ask Lars when they met again, both regarding the case, and his situation. She just needed to know.

It wasn't until she had started making dinner that she realized she'd not even asked Lars what could have been the most important question of the case;  _Who was responsible for his death if it wasn't an accident?_

She wanted to kick herself for having not asked that or alluding to it at least. If anyone could know who the murderer was, it would be their victims, right? Or maybe she should have expected him to come forward with a killer, and tell her himself? Or maybe he didn't know, and was an innocent bystander to a crime?

Sadie got up at 4 am to look at everything Lars had given her, trying to make sense of it all. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she began to list out possible theories of this case:

She'd looked up Lars' mother and found that before her son's birth, she had divorced and was living in an all white neighborhood as a Chinese immigrant. That was sure to catch attention. Maybe Lars was caught as an innocent victim in a hate crime? But then again, Beach City never those sorts of crimes, even in homogeneous neighborhoods. And Sadie was pretty sure Lars would have told her if that had been the case.

She then found that Lars' bicycle which was found with his corpse had been the same model of a bike that had been stolen from Beach City Bikeland hours before Lars had disappeared. Maybe the bike shop owner had chased Lars and smashed the bridge to get him off the bike? After more reading, Sadie nixed that theory too, finding that the stolen bike was recovered elsewhere, and that the owner hadn't chased after the thief. Besides, how could a bike owner smash a bridge badly enough to leave the damage found?

Maybe there was an undercover gang plot to destroy the bridge for insurance, and Lars was the unfortunate person who was caught in the crosshairs?

After coming up with about 50 more theories, some stranger than others, Sadie realized she sounded more like the weird guy Ronaldo in Forensics than an actual detective, and settled that she'd just have to ask Lars about it when they met again.

* * *

Around eight, Sadie answered the door, smiling as she was met with the bubbly grin she'd grown so fond of.

"Hi Sadie!", the chubby and cheerful boy sang happily, jumping for a hug, which she gifted immediately.

"Hi there, Steven," she greeted warmly, petting his soft black curls, "How're you?"

"Great!", he grinned, then scurrying inside to her comfy sofa to watch his evening cartoons on the tiny tv, while Sadie looked to his aunt, Pearl, a tall slender woman with brushed back ginger hair and wearing her dance clothes under her coat.

"Thanks again for this, Sadie," Pearl smiled, "Either Garnett or Amethyste will be by to pick him up in a couple of hours."

"Sure thing," she smiled, waving as the dancer left. For the last three years, she'd been Steven's babysitter for his three aunts when they were tied up with their respective jobs, and they didn't feel like leaving the boy at the car wash with his father.

Once Pearl had left to her dance rehearsal, Sadie went over to Steven, "Have you had any dinner yet?"

"Pearl made me dinner before we left, but no dessert!", the boy whined, flopping dramatically on the sofa, which made the officer giggle.

"And what makes you think I have dessert?", she teased him lightly, going into her kitchen, only for Steven to follow almost underfoot.

"You're a cop! And cops get doughnuts, right?", the boy looked up hopefully.

"Not unless we defeat a big bad guy, and that doesn't happen much in this city," Sadie sighed, "But I  _do_  have ice cream I think."

The jubilant cheer Steven gave made her giggle, and she dished him out a small dish of butter pecan ice cream, "Don't spill any on my couch, ok?", she smiled as she got to cleaning the dishes she had stacked in her sink.

"Ok!", he called back, already on the couch, enjoying his cartoons and ice cream, a match made in kiddie heaven. Sadie smiled as she continued to work, not afraid to admit that even if she really wasn't the most skilled with kids, Steven was definitely an exception. When she was drying a dish she'd just rinsed, she grew suddenly alert as she heard a 'clinking' noise right behind her.

Thinking for a second it was Steven, she thought nothing of it, only that she heard it again, and glanced behind herself, only to give a stifled yelp as she saw her newest client sitting in one of her dining table chairs, eating what looked like a bowl of macaroni and cheese.

"Lars?", she whispered harshly, "What in the world are you doing here?"

The scruffy individual made no direct response, mouth full. When it seemed he would answer, he took another bite, then spoke, mouth full, "Eating mac' n cheese."

"But  _why_?", she asked, voice still a hushed tone, and noticed the brimming bowl of steaming hot pasta, "And where did you get that?"

"Made it," he spoke with a sense of cockiness, taking another big bite. It was then that Sadie noticed it was in a ceramic blue and white bowl, dishware that she didn't even own. Did Lars just make that out of thin air? Was it even real? It certainly smelled real, but it could be like one of those dream dishes she occasionally had, where in her sleep, she'd imagine smelling food, seeing it, and eating it, but no taste to it, as it just became air.

"...Ok, never mind the mac and cheese, but what are you doing in my house? Why?", she hissed again, arms crossed, trying not to look too freaked out.

"I jus' wanted to see what you do when you're not a cop," he shrugged, still eating, the bowl never having gotten emptier it seemed.

"Well I'd rather not have ghosts in my house while-"

Her tirade was cut off by Steven walking in, and she turned to face him, slightly startled, "Ste-! Steven!"

"Who are you talking to?", he asked, having heard her whispering in the kitchen.

"Well I-...", she began, and realized it would be no use to explain, "My imaginary friend."

"You have an imaginary friend?", he grinned, "What's their name?"

"...Lars," she sighed.

"Woah, cool!", Steven giggled, running near her, waving at thin air, "Hi Laaaaars!"

"He's sitting in the kitchen chair," she laughed, seeing Steven waving at the fridge, much to her amusement, and Lars' annoyance.

"Oh! Hi Laaaars!", he repeated, waving at the chair. Knowing he wouldn't be seen by the boy, Lars made an obscene gesture to him, appalling Sadie, who scolded him, much to her babysitting charge's confusion.

"What is he? A person, animal,...or mineral?", Steven asked curiously, eyebrow raised.

Sadie was going to answer, but wanting to get that smug look off Lars' face, she grinned, "He's a big pink butterfly with heart shaped sunglasses."

"That's amazing!", Steven cheered in awe, contrasting the scowl Lars had.

"Hey, kiddo, why don't you watch TV a little more. I gotta talk to Lars more OK? Gotta discuss butterfly things," she smiled knowingly to Lars, who made an unkind face to Steven in return. The boy obviously didn't notice it, and went back to the living room to watch Crying Dinner Friends (The sequel to the Breakfast series.) As soon as he was out of the room, Sadie looked at Lars, who was still chewing away at his bottomless little pasta bowl, "OK. I guess I can use this time to ask you questions, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled, wiping cheese off his face.

"OK," she nodded, and closed the kitchen door, telling Steven to stay in her living room. Seeing hevwas preoccupied with ice cream, TV, and Melvin purring on his lap, she went back to Lars, and pulled out her notepad and pen. "I don't think a tape recorder is going to work in this situation. And your claims are going to need material evidence and witness stories that match."

"There were no witnesses. Everyone involved is guilty," he mumbled.

"There's more than one killer?", Sadie asked, "How many?"

"...three," he mumbled, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Names?", she pressed, still writing.

"...can we talk about this later?", he asked nervously, "Tomorrow?"

Sadie frowned, but gave a sigh, "Yeah. Sure. Just don't be lying about anything, got it?"

"What do you take me for, anyway?", he snorted, "Relax short stuff, I ain't jerkin' your chain."

"Don't call me that!", she huffed, face red.

Looking a greater amount more relaxed, he continued to eat his endless meal as if he hadn't eaten in forever. Sadie was left to watch him sit in her kitchen, hoping she was actually solving a ghost's death, and not completely losing her mind.

* * *

Sadie had no idea if Lars had left her house during the night, but she did notice very quickly that the punk was laying on her couch, shoes still on, a mess around him. She had gone to bed about an hour after Steven's aunt Amethyste, a spitfire gym manager with wild bleached hair, came by to pick the boy up, literally, as he was passed out on Sadie's sofa, worn out from his day's adventures. The officer had told Lars she would help him in the morning, and had retired to her room with Melvin.

Lars didn't seem to notice or at least, not care when Sadie walked in and put her hands on her hips, looking quite displeased at the mess.

"You better be planning to pick this up," she spoke sternly to the ghost, giving an annoyed snort when his only response was an eyeroll and no action implying he would do as she said.

"Make me," he smiled smugly, expecting her to get huffy. What he didn't expect was her to grab him by the ear, surprising both him and her for being able to touch him, and she dragged him onto the floor, holding him by a stretched lobe. "Clean it. Now."

Scowling, he began to do so, grumbling all the while. As he did that, Sadie allowed herself to enjoy her morning coffee, and paper. Once she was dressed in uniform, she spoke from the hallway, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. See you there," he spoke blankly. Before the officer could answer, or enter the room, he had disappeared. And Sadie figured from then on not to offer him rides since he didn't need them.

* * *

Reaching Dead Man's Mouth, she looked around to see if Lars was there. Seeing no sign of the ghost, she began to observe the area, noting the water was stewed with thick slimy weeds and moss. What an unfortunate end for someone so young.

Before she could step near the water, a voice startled her, "Don't you fall in."

Whirling around, hand on her gun, she went into a defensive stance, only to relax when she saw Lars, "Oh gosh, don't scare me like that."

"I'm a ghost, I'm supposed to be scary," he announced with teenage snark.

She snorted, and looked around, "This place has always been shifty."

"Yeah, no kidding. Come on, I'll show you where to look," he spoke, gesturing her to follow. He nimbly lumbered up a steep embankment without trouble. Sadie struggled to climb up, but finally managed, looking at Lars with slight curiosity, "If you're a ghost, can you float?"

"Why all the questions?", he snickered.

"1. I'm an officer, I have to ask questions. 2. You're the first ghost I've ever met," she shrugged with a welcoming smile.

Lars rolled his eyes, sighing, "So, yeah, up here's everything that happened," he began, walking over to the old bridge which had since grown old, moss eaten, and decrepit. In the middle was the split in which the structure collapsed, sending Larson Chang plummeting to his watery grave. Sadie began to examine the splits and fractures in the splintered old beams, taking their age into account. Upon closer inspection, Sadie found cuts in the wood that matched those an axe might make if it missed its mark. She looked to Lars, "...I want you to tell me what happened right before you fell."

The ghost, staring at the water below the bridge gave a small gulp, and licked his sore looking lips before talking, "...so...it was after school, and I was taking my new bike for a ride. I was taking a shortcut home around here when... _they_  came over to me, and asked if I wanted to hang with them...I thought they were cool," he snorted, sounding a little worn, "I was showing off my bike and they told me to ride it on the bridge, and see me pop a wheelie. I didn't even know what that was," he mumbled with a mirthless chuckle, "I said no, but then they threatened to tie me up to a rock," he snarled, then went quiet, "As soon as I got halfway across the bridge, well...that's when it broke, and I fell. I never learned how to swim, and I was trying to get them to help me, but they just  _laughed_  at me!", he spoke with slight hysteria, then took a deep breath, "Then...that was it. I woke up and when I realized what had happened, I kind of just watched...well...myself...float under there, and waited for someone to come. Nobody came for a whole week," he spoke, voice strained, "I was waiting that whole time. And when the police finally came around, they didn't even look around the bridge. They didn't even wonder how the bridge broke, they just said it was an accident," he mumbled, "...the...the people who did it, they never even got punished."

Sadie stared at Lars with a face of both shock, sadness, and sympathy. "You poor thing," she mumbled, seeing the pain and grief in his face as he spoke. She'd written everything down, finding it even sadder to read.

Lars suddenly gave an annoyed look, "Don't call me that, I ain't pathetic, ok?", and glared at her, only to take a deep breath, sighing, "I-I...I'm sorry," he spoke softly, rubbing furiously at his eyes, "I've just been waiting out here for so long for someone to finally listen to me. Nobody's remembered me since I drowned. It's like I never existed to begin with. I didn't even get so see my mom," he admitted forlornly, "I...really miss her," he then confessed too quietly for Sadie to hear clearly.

Giving a soft sigh, she nodded, and without thinking, gave him a hug for comfort, which he immediately stiffened at, wanting to back away from her. She quickly pulled back, shocked at her actions, "S-sorry!", she yelped, "I'm just used to hugging people..."

He didn't give a response, just rubbing his shoulder awkwardly, and walked over to overgrown bushes on the steep slopes, "They chopped the sides of the bridge before I came around here," he growled, "They knew the bridge would break when I rode over it. I bet they chucked the thing they chopped it with in the bushes."

"Why would they do this?", she asked as she carefully climbed the steep slope, beginning to look in the tangled ivy and wild foliage that grew under the bridge halves.

"They knew I was a little kid, easy target for their  _ideas_  of fun," he mumbled, "They're the kind of people who would flush goldfish."

Sadie sighed, "Sadists, huh?", and after about a half hour of searching, saw something gleam in the tangled plants, and with rubber gloves, picked up an axe, putting it in a plastic bag for the forensics lab to look at. She'd have to listen to Ronaldo's endless list of theories as he worked, but it would at least confirm the truths Lars gave her. She looked at the axe, seeing it was old and weathered, moss having grown on the wooden handle, and the blade having rusted.

She stared at the weapon for another minute, then looked right at Lars, "I need you to tell me the names of your killers."

The sullen looking ghost hesitated before he finally answered.

* * *

Rapping her knuckles on the large door, the blonde waited in front of the affluent looking beach house, ready to confront one of the three killers. The owner finally answered with a raised brow, looking both confused and annoyed "Is there a problem, officer?"

Sadie sighed, "Hello, Mayor Dewey. I need to speak to your son."


	3. Chapter 3

"Really, officer! I insist you have a seat! What can I get you? Coffee? Tea? Liquor?", Mayor Dewey had asked all too cordially as he led Sadie into the luxurious looking living room full of fine furniture and fixtures. Sadie was certain within a year, she'd be back to cuff him for tax evasion.

"Really, Mayor. No thank you," she sighed with exasperation, "Can I please just speak to your son?"

"I'm afraid Buck's out with his friends, the Pizza girl, and Mayonnaise or whatever his name is," he shrugged casually, pouring himself a glass of some type of rich drink out of a fancy flask on his shelf, "I'm sure it's nothing too serious, yes?"

"He and his friends might be responsible for a murder," she spoke bluntly.

The mayor nearly dropped what he was holding, "You must be joking! That's impossible!", he scoffed.

"I have reason to believe he and his two friends are responsible for the Dead Man's Mouth bridge collapse that killed a child, Larson Chang, ten years ago," she explained, "An axe was found, and after closer inspection, with your name on it. There's reason to believe your son took it to damage the bridge, then either he or his friends forced Larson to go on the bridge with his bike and break it."

"That's preposterous!", Bill Dewey sputtered, "They couldn't have done that, they were just children."

"So was Larson," she reminded him, "And he's dead because of this," and gave a shrug, sighing, "Kids can be cruel, mayor," she spoke with blunt honesty, "They can do things that we consider evil. And they don't always get off scot free because they're kids." She was speaking from experience, remembering how mean and cruel children could be when she was young, unable to count how many times she was pushed in the mud, her hair pulled with threat of ripping her scalp off, and even having thumbtacks shoved into her arms by her own classmates.

Mayor Dewey shook his hands frantically, "There has to be a mistake! Buck wouldn't do this!"

"That's for me to decide," she frowned, "Where do he and his friends usually spend time?"

"I-I don't know!", he stuttered, looking genuinely terrified now, "Wherever it is teenagers spend their free time!"

"I guess I'll have to go looking," she spoke with a slight chirp, turning to leave.

As she got in her car, the mayor chased after as much as his legs could carry, shouting, "Whatever you do, PLEASE don't tell the newspapers! IT'S BAD FOR BUSINESS!"

* * *

Sadie was lucky to find the teenagers at the city skate park, meaning she wouldn't have to go searching for all three individually. She momentarily watched as a boy in a red and black sports jacket, and a girl wearing a leather jacket and black flats cheered on their skating companion, a slender boy with a complexion that was even paler than Lars' ghostly white skin. She had one guess that was 'Sour Cream'.

Walking over, she made stern but calm eye contact with the boy in the sports jacket, who didn't even look nervous to see an officer come over.

Sadie spoke as she pulled out her badge, "Hi there. Are you Bruce Dewey?"

"Friends call me Buck," he spoke casually with a small shrug, "Everyone calls me Buck."

"Right. OK. And you're Jenny?", she asked the girl beside him, who gave a nod, looking disinterested. Sadie pointed to the one on the board with skin that looked like it got dusted in chalk, "And your friend there, is that, um...Sour Cream?", she asked, wondering who the hell named that kid.

"Yup. Mr. Mayo right there," Buck chuckled.

"Yeah, could you call him over here?", Sadie asked as politely as she could, a little offset at their casual tone.

Buck called to his friend, who seemed to stretch off the half pipe like a rubber band, skating over to stand by his friends, only to then speak in a slow, disinterested voice, "Oh heyyyy. What's with a police officer?"

"Guess she wants to talk to us?", Jenny smiled with a shrug.

"Guessed right," Sadie nodded, showing her badge to the three, "I'm Officer Carmichael. I need to ask you three some questions."

"Questions about what?", Sour Cream droned inquisitively.

"I think it's best we talk at the station," she answered, gesturing them to the police vehicle, all three looking slightly puzzled as they were squeezed into the back of the car.

Once at the station, Sadie had them sit in the interrogation room as a group to see if she could get honest answers from them. She doubted it.

"What's this about?", Buck asked, sounding curious, "We in trouble?"

"You tell me," Sadie spoke with a calm tone, presenting a picture of Larson Chang, aged seven, "Do you remember this boy?"

For a second, they looked puzzled as they stared at the picture, only to have a look of recognition grow on their faces one by one. "...looks kind of familiar," Sour Cream spoke slowly.

"Do you remember Larson Chang?", Sadie asked.

Buck looked like he was about to answer 'no', but Jenny immediately spoke a little too hastily, "Yeah he's the kid who died when the bridge broke."

Sadie raised her brow, "How did you know that?"

"I...read it on the newspaper," she answered with hesitation, "My dad likes to keep newspapers to put up in the shop in case it gets mentioned."

"Where was your shop mentioned on that paper? ", the officer asked.

"One of the side articles or somethin'. I just remembered the kid's name, ok?", she sighed, "It was somewhere."

"...Did you know he went to your three's school?", Sadie then asked, watching Sour Cream pick a hangnail uncomfortably.

"...nowww I think I'm remembering something about him...he was the little kid who rode his bike to school," the pale teen murmured.

"How did you know he had a bike?", Sadie asked, leaning over the table slightly.

Sour Cream immediately began to trip over his words, his stuttering and stumbling just as slow as his normal speech, "Iiiii...remember there being a bike parked in the lock at school, the only one, before he died," he spoke, "After he died, there was no bike in the lock anymore," he explained.

"What year was that?", she asked.

"Ten years ago, November 23rd," Jenny interrupted, looking as though she were a little more than fearful.

"...that was the day he disappeared," Sadie informed thoughtfully, "Is there anything you'd like to comment on about that?"

All three went immediately silent, looking uncomfortable.

Sadie sighed, standing up, and began the individual interrogations. She started with Jenny, who seemed the most jumpy, then Sour Cream, the most calm, and finally Buck, who hadn't said anything of substance.

She had asked them all if they had gone bike riding the day Lars disappeared, having gotten information from their families that they would ride their bikes together to school and back almost everyday. They all hesitantly had answered a yes.

She then asked if they ever biked to Dead Man's Mouth. Only Sour Cream said yes.

She then asked if Larson ever talked to them. Jenny said yes, Sour Cream no, and Buck pretended not to hear.

After more inconsistent questioning, which left Buck tense, Sour Cream nervous, and Jenny on the brink of a breakdown, Sadie decided to ask the big question.

"At any point during the day, did you know Larson Chang would fall from the bridge?"

All answered no, with Jenny starting to cry. She then began to ask them if any of the three knew if the other two would have a reason to want Larson hurt or killed. All immediately answered no, Buck rather angrily, his calm persona having weakened.

"I knew we shouldn't have let him bike across the bridge!", Jenny had cried, "My bike nearly fell through!"

"It did?", Sadie asked, a little surprised at this revelation.

"The back tire," she cried, makeup running from her tears, "I-i felt it snag, I nearly fell off, and I saw the huge crack between the panels. Buck and Sour Cream saw it too," she hiccupped, "Larson was right over it when the bridge snapped!"

Buck and Sour Cream had both confirmed it. Finally some consistency.

Sadie then decided to ask, "Why didn't you help Larson out?," she asked, "Why didn't you get help?", she interrogated all three, angry not at their supposed malicious deeds, but their ignorance, " _WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ANYONE?_ "

"None of us could swim! We promised each other we wouldn't talk about what happened!", Jenny sobbed, "It took forever until I could go to sleep at night!"

"We were scared!", Sour Cream yelped quicker than he'd ever spoken before, "I still remember that poor kid screaming!"

"...we were just kids...what else were we supposed to do?" Buck had asked with regret in his voice.

At first, Sadie was going to admit that she should let them go, and go on the idea that this was really just a tragic accident. But then she remembered the axe, deciding nobody was leaving until the evidence was cleared. For all she knew, Buck could have still been behind the death. She angrily made all three stay in the overnight cell, all three looking anything but relaxed.

* * *

When Sadie got home, she slammed the door, immediately walking to her couch, wanting nothing but a snuggly cat and the TV remote, absolutely done.

As soon as she got comfy with Melvin, she suddenly realized she wasn't alone, and looked up towards her hallway, seeing Lars standing there, hands fiddling nervously, "Did...did ya find them?"

She gave a sigh, "Yeah. I found them."

"Are they locked up?", he asked again, almost pleading.

She gave another sigh, deciding to humor him, "Yeah. They are. They can't hurt you again."

Immediately, a genuine smile of cheer grew on Lars face, "S-seriously? YES!", he cried triumphantly, and without warning, ran over to hug Sadie tightly, almost constricting the life out of her tinier body.

"L-Lars, you're crushing me," she wheezed, shocked how hard she felt his hug.

"S-sorry!", he laughed, looking ready to cry, "It's jus', I've waited for this for so long...", he whispered, still smiling brightly, rubbing his eyes.

"I know," she mumbled, feeling guilty a bit, "...congratulations."

"I-I...need to...I mean WE need to celebrate this!", he announced giddily, "I wanna take you someplace! That's not weird is it? I don't care if its weird, heck, I just wanna!"

"Um...ok?", she answered quietly. She didn't feel right celebrating the traumatizing of teenagers, but Lars did seem happy...

"Come on let's go! I know a place we can go!", Lars cheered, bouncing on his heels, looking happier than a kid on Christmas. It was almost disturbing for Sadie to see. When she didn't respond right away, he gave a nervous look, "...please?"

Giving a low sigh, she grabbed her coat, following him out to her car, and let him sit in the passenger seat. At first, she was about to remind him to buckle his seatbelt, but realized he didn't need it. He began to spout directions, at first, sounding confident in where they were going, but as they went around in circles or to dead ends, he grew a bit flustered. When his eye caught a run down arcade that looked like a seedier version of Funland, he immediately cheered, "This is it!", and frantically told Sadie to park her car on the curbside. She got change for the meter, and followed Lars into the sketchy arcade, which smelled a lot like weed and other unpleasant smells. He took her by the arm, rushing her past some less than pleasant looking individuals, and over to the change machine, "Do you have five dollars?", he asked, voice sounding energetic.

"Uh-um...why?", she asked, slightly confused.

"To play the games, duh!", he snorted, "A quarter each!", and seeing Sadie tentatively take a bill out of her wallet, whisked it out of her hand, shoving it into the machine. Twenty quarters spat out, and he collected them in his hands, passing them into hers, "C'mon! I'll show you all the good ones!", he grinned, taking her by the shoulder, and leading her over to a beat up looking console of the old 'Teens of Rage' game, the paint on the side of the game starting to peel and the graphics a big fuzzy eyesore.

"This is like...the oldest game here," Sadie informed him, looking at him with confusion.

"It's the  _best_  game here," he corrected, "I would always come here when I was a kid, and play this!", he smiled, "I got so good at it, I almost wanted to bet people for quarters!"

Sadie sighed, and put two quarters in the machine, one for her, one for him. Lars punched the two player button, and grabbed his joystick, picking his character, and letting Sadie pick hers. He then asked with a smirk, "Ready, Player 2?"

Giving a slightly puzzled look, she nodded, and bit her lip in concentration, her gaming skills a bit rusty. They began to mash buttons to attack each other, and Sadie soon noticed how skillfully Lars pressed them and twitched the joystick to move, eyes focused on the screen. He beat her in a few well placed moves. Soon, she caught on to strategies, and the ghost would find it a bit more difficult to beat her so quickly. They were on the last few rounds, not realizing that since they started playing, neither of them had said a word.

"You're...not half bad at this," Lars admitted softly to her, still focused on beating her character.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "I was never really that good at games to start with."

"I always came here, but this was the only game I could ever play. All the other games were taken by the time I could get here," he spoke quietly, "If I did get in on one of them, one of the regular kids would yell at me to get away from it," he muttered.

"Oh," she sighed, and pressed a few more buttons, "I...know how that feels. I got picked on a lot as a kid," she admitted.

"Really? You?", he asked with genuine surprise.

"You sound surprised to hear that a fat girl got picked on," she mumbled with slight amusement, "I also didn't have that many friends because I was super shy and I never looked good in any of the clothes girls wore then."

"Aw screw that. Wear what the hell you want, do what the hell you want, that's what I do," he muttered, "I'd have stuck up for you."

"Thanks," she mumbled, hiding a slight smile, a bit touched to hear that from someone as prickly as he was.

"...you're not as much of a tight end as I thought you might be," he made another soft admittance as she finally beat him. When they were ready to play another round, Lars noticed they had used all of their quarters.

"And you're not as much of a punk as I thought you were," she admitted to him with a friendly smile, perking up when she heard a roughneck growl at her, "Hey lady, are you gonna hog the machine all night? Some of us wanna play here!"

"Oh! Uh- sorry," she spoke quickly, starting for the door. Lars frowned as he watched the jerk stomp over to the machine she abandoned, and fiercely staring at it, watched as it suddenly sputtered, and gave the rude patron an electric shock that made him yelp in fright and pain. With a snicker, he passed through the whining man to catch up with Sadie.

* * *

Ronaldo pressed his glasses on his face as he gave a serious look to Sadie, "I found something interesting. You might want to hear this."

She watched as the head of forensics walked over to her with photographs of the examined evidence she had found, "I dismantled the bridge, or what was left of it, and dissecting it down the midsection, I found a huge amount of decay and rot inside. At first, I thought maybe hungry, mutant termites, but then I looked even closer. On the fractures of the bridge where it had originally split, I found a serious case of fungi had grown inside it, causing dry rot. After closer examination, I've found the estimated age of the decay to be at least eleven or twelve years old."

"What does that mean?", she asked, "The axe didn't make the bridge break?"

He nodded, "It couldn't have. The nature of the fractures doesn't match that of damage by an axe," he explained, brushing back a bit of his wild blond hair out of his face, "Speaking of which...those axe cuts you found? They were made recently, like in at least a month," he frowned, picking up a small vial of a liquid, and a piece of wood, "The moss you saw on there; that was caused by chemical tampering, using an easy homemade recipe for moss growth," he then splashed some of the liquid on the wood, "A lot of abstract artists like to 'paint' with moss on wood nowadays, because it's made so easy, and it grows so quickly, in about a day, especially around water...Dead Man's Mouth would have been the perfect place to make it grow and make the cuts look old," he murmured, fixing his glasses again, frowning deeper, "And that leads me to the axe."

"It's...fake, isn't it?", Sadie sighed, heart dropping, holding back her utter shock. Had Lars set this whole thing up?

"The axe? No, it's a real axe, Mayor Dewey reported it stolen about a month ago" he nodded, missing the meaning of her question and her slapping her hand to her forehead, "What  _is_  fake is how it was aged. It was dipped in the same moss recipe as the cuts on the bridge, and the metal was painted with a corrosive material," he revealed, "The layer of rust was so thin, it couldn't have been that old to have been hidden before the bridge collapsed," he stated.

"So...the three we arrested couldn't have done it?", she asked, hands feeling clammy, and face growing hot with upset and betrayal.

"It's impossible they could have known. It was a freak accident, simple as that," he sighed, slapping the case file on the table for her, "Whoever was your client put you on a wild goose chase.. _.and had no fingerprints_...or  _really_  clean hands" he scoffed softly, putting on a giant commando backpack that was full of investigation gear, and a mini satellite, "Now if you'll excuse me, my shift is over, and I have to go pursue the living animatronics at the old pizza place!", and hurried off, paranormal mode back in action.

* * *

Once the door slammed behind Ronaldo, Sadie sat on her knees in shock. Lars had  _lied_  to her? Those kids were innocent? Why did he plant fake evidence for her to find? Why did he want those kids arrested?

When Sadie looked up, she saw Lars stiffly walk over to the case file, face cold and blank as he picked it up. He looked at her with a sour face,"...Nobody has to know about this. You can pass that scientist off as a complete idiot if you wanted to," he spoke softly, voice icy enough to send a chill down her spine.

"Y-You  _lied_  to me!", she choked, "Those kids were innocent, and you knew it!"

"You don't know  _anything_ , Sadie, " he hissed, "What I had to suffer through, what I had done to make sure everything worked. Now you're going to try and ruin everything I've worked for?"

"E-everything you've worked f-..." she repeated, in utter shock and confusion, and suddenly saw red, "Is this all a stupid _game_  to you, Lars?"

"None of this was ever a game," he growled, his glare cold and deathly towards her, clenching his fists, raising one towards the file with a slow, deliberate grabbing motion.

Sadie immediately slapped his hand away, "Don't you touch it, creep!"

He gave a hateful snarl, "I won't let you ruin this for me, Sadie!"

"I'm not going to put innocent people in jail!", she shouted, "Now you leave me alone before I find out how to get  _rid_  of you, and make sure nobody remembers you after this!"

"You're a no good traitor!", he yelled, and stepped forward to charge her as she hugged the folder tightly, not letting him have it. He stopped mid walk when he saw her grab the axe in the bag. He knew she could just run out the door with the evidence, and the case would be done for good. He needed to make her see his way.

He glared, "Fine. You can leave."

She gave an untrusting look, "Seriously?"

"You can leave," he spoke, face growing hateful, and suddenly, as if something in him had snapped, he smiled with spiteful intent, "But I'll make sure you'll be sorry if you think this is going to be over like that.", and like film burning in a fire, he disappeared, leaving Sadie alone in the room.

She just felt more alone in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

_Larson found it a little more than hard to fit in at school. Gangly and awkward, he wasn't exactly the most popular child. His days at school could be summed up to him trying to chat up his classmates only to get rebuffed with annoyance or ignored. There was a lot he felt needed to be worked on, like his wiry mess of dark hair he inherited from his mother, his clothes which came from the big dumpster bins at the Goodwill outlet in Charm City, his weird voice, and lastly, his bike. It, like his clothes, was secondhand, and needed fixing every so often. Even so, he had no trouble with riding it to and from school every day, since he didn't like being on the school bus, which was smelly and crowded._

_He felt glad his mother let him do the round trips every day, which was beneficial to her early morning job, she didn't have to drive him to school, then go across town to work._

_Larson secretly felt a little lucky with that. He worried that if his mother dropped him off, people might laugh at him or her, for how she looked, face speckled with brown imperfect freckles on tan skin, and her hair always a mess. For how she spoke, her English still broken, and accent still audible in her voice, Larson was scared someone would mimic it the next day to him and call him 'Lahlson' or something like that to aggravate him. How she laughed, he liked it, but he was worried nobody else would, with her puffy "Hwoo hoo hoo!", whenever she was cheerful, which was often._

_But even with all the worries she brought Larson, he still loved her, and she loved him, her only family left in this country. She would make him a fresh snack every day after school, whether it be fruit, fresh or candied, or even freshly cooked meals from her mother's recipes and traditions. He would talk to her in English, she'd talk back in Chinese, and then they'd switch. She struggled with English, but he helped her as best he could, having gripped her language wonderfully._

_She taught him to cook, letting him stir the homemade noodles, squish the steamed beans into gooey paste with his hands, and knead the sticky rice into a chewy dough. She wouldn't let him use a knife until he was older, but she showed him how to tear bread right down the middle, and hear the crisp sound it made on breaking. She let him taste all of the different sensations, the sweetness of a candied gooseberry, the sourness of a pickled plum, the pungentness of a duck egg, and the mellowness of a savory wintermelon._

_Larson's mother also would read to him every night, whether it be fairy tales, reading for school, or Chinese folklore from her old childhood books, wanting her boy to have an appreciation for his heritage and her culture._

_"Did you really see a fox when you were little, Mama?", he asked at age five, calling her 'mommy' in public, and 'mama' at home, thinking one might be more 'cool' than the other._

_"I did," she smiled, speaking in Chinese, "He looked right at me and smiled!"_

_"Foxes can't smile...at least I think they can't," Larson pouted, "Are you sure?"_

_"I promise it. I was walking home in the snow, and he looked right at me, and went into the woods," she had told, "He was probably trying to tell me something from one of the spirits."_

_"Foxes have spirits?", he had asked, getting interested._

_"They say that if you see a fox, it means the spirits of the dead have sent you a message," she smiled._

_"What did they say?", he then excitably asked, sitting up until he was stretched as far as he could go._

_"I don't know," she laughed, "Maybe they just wanted to know that I remembered them! Or maybe they were wishing me luck," she smiled, petting his hair, and kissed him goodnight._

_Larson would notice how his mother had a fondness for foxes, telling him that if the spirits of the dead were relaying messages through them, then surely they would be remembered for a long time. Sometimes, he would pretend to be a fox, and walk on all fours around the house, growling, and she would tell him that foxes were quiet and clever, not loud and scary like wolves. On his first day of kindergarten, she had bid her 'little fox' goodbye, and he was for the first time in his life, left with entirely new people._

_As he would soon grow accustomed to, Larson would feel very left out of many of his schoolmates' activities, even if he tried to be included. He even felt left out in the classroom, only seeming to get picked by the teacher when he didn't raise his hand, and as far as he remembered, he'd not been picked for a show and tell day yet._

_At the end of the day, after feeling forgotten once more at school, he would return home to his mother who always remembered him as the same boy she kissed goodbye that morning._

_Sometimes, he wondered if she felt forgotten sometimes too. She never talked about any friends she had, and she never invited anyone over, and nobody invited her to anything. He didn't think that anyone would dislike her for any discernible reason, but maybe they just forgot she was there._

_In second grade, Larson found he wasn't the only one using the bike lock at school, seeing three bikes taking up the lock alongside his too. He saw their owners, three kids in the grade above him, park them and lock them, and go inside the school. Something about that made him really excited, to have at least one shared interest with the grade above him._

_For the next several weeks, he would try to socialize with them whenever he could, or at least find out more about them, at least getting their names within the first week of friendship attempts; Jenny, the pizza shopowner's daughter, Buck, the mayor's son, and another kid who was called Sour Cream. Larson didn't know anything about that kid except that once during lunch, he took an onion out of his bag, and ate it like an apple. Weird._

_It was one slightly chilly day in fall that he was riding his bike home on his normal route when he saw the three 'cool' kids biking up the same road several feet ahead of him. Excitably, he began to bike faster, speeding up the steepening road, and soon reached them, squeaking, "Hi!"_

_All three turned their head to look at him as they continued to ride, and Jenny gave a quick, "H'lo", as she continued to pedal her bright purple bike with bright pink reflectors._

_"You guys ride bikes to school too?", Larson chirped excitably, continuing to push his tiny legs on his bike to keep up with them._

_"Sure," Buck had answered, "It's fun. We're all on the same route."_

_"Cool! Maybe I can bike with you guys to and from school!", he had grinned hopefully._

_Giving a small shrug, Jenny smiled, "Yeah, I guess so. Where'd you get your bike from?"_

_"I- well, I got it from a secondhand store," Larson had admitted innocently._

_"Wha? Aw, man, those places never have any good stuff," Buck had whined, "I always get my stuff new."_

_Larson's ears had flushed red, "...I'm going to get a brand new bike on my birthday with tiger stripes and flames on the wheels," he bragged, though he knew he was telling a lie, since he knew his mother wouldn't be able to buy a bike for him in that time._

_"That's cool," Buck answered, which made Larson smile a little more._

_He then realized that Sour Cream hadn't said a word since he had come over, and glanced at him. Sour Cream immediately smiled, and held up a paper bag that had been on the underside of the bike, "Want a babyhead?"_

_"A what?"_

_"A babyhead! They're really good!"_

_Larson stopped his bike a moment to look in the bag. It was full of onions. "No thanks," he grimaced._

_After a while, the boy hadn't realized that he had gone off route to home, and that he was in an entirely new direction, the area becoming more woodsy and overgrown with weeds and wildlife. After a while, he found he had followed the three to one of the biggest, yuckiest ponds he had ever seen, seeing the water was bright green with moss, and thick with weeds. He grimaced at seeing the water, "Are we going swimming in this?", he whined._

_Jenny laughed, "No way, we're gonna go up on the bridge over it," she pointed to the old structure over the seven foot gap of land the pond was in. at least fifteen feet over the water. Lars gulped, "It...looks...creepy," he admitted, face red as Jenny laughed again._

_"C'mon, it's not that bad, it's super sturdy," Buck assured, walking his bike up the hill, and did a wheelie on the bridge, then stayed on the other side, "See?"_

_Larson was still reluctant, and stood in place, "U-Um...someone else go next."_

_Sour Cream whizzed over the bridge like it was nothing, and plopped beside Buck, smiling haplessly. Larson, still intimidated by the bridge, looked to Jenny, who seemed to read his expression, rolling her eyes as she bunnyhopped on the bridge. In the middle, her bike jolted in place, and she nearly was sent flying off it. She looked down to see its back tire had fallen a few inches through the wood, and could only laugh, thinking it was a fluke, continuing over the bridge, laughing about the instant to the other two. All three then looked to Larson who had since wheeled his old bike up the hill, and a foot from the bridge._

_"C'mon Larson, are you gonna do it?", Buck asked._

_"We're waiiiitiiiiing," Sour Cream sang, chewing an onion._

_"I-It looks...scary," the boy whined softly._

_"Come on, don't be a chicken!", Buck snorted._

_"We were able to do this as first graders!", Jenny bragged._

_"Come on! Do it!", Buck taunted again._

_"Do it! Do it! Do it!", Sour Cream chanted._

_Seeing their grins, and feeling spirited, Larson charged on the bike across the bridge, seeing their excited grins._

_He only had a split second to see their shocked faces as the platform beneath him snapped in two, and he felt nothing supporting him under his feet as he was sent tumbling down to the green water below, legs entangled in his bike, making him scream in terror for only a moment, as it was instantly cut off when he hit the water._

_The thick weeds in the water kept him from breaking the surface after only a few moments, as every time he came up to gasp for air, water and algae would rush into his mouth and down his throat, making him cough and sputter, "He-help!", and would then bob under the surface, the bike holding him down further like a weight._

_The three children had since rushed down to the edge of the pond, frightened as they saw the younger child struggling in the water. None of them could swim, and none of them wanted to be caught in the same fate Larson had._

_Larson's dark brown, innocent eyes had locked with theirs for a split second, terror and pleading in them as they disappeared below the water for another time, only to rise again, in hope that the three children he befriended would be in the process of saving him._

_They hadn't moved._

_Fear struck through him again as he disappeared under the water once again, his lungs filling with water, algae, and horrible things, and he lost all ability to breathe. As soon as the terror of doom struck, he suddenly felt a sense of calm as he then lost consciousness, the final thing running through his head was the memory of his mother kissing him goodbye that morning._

_The three had gone home, fleeing on their bikes in terror from what they had witnessed. When they saw Larson go down that final time, and not come up, they knew he wasn't going to come back up ever again. They had done their best to pretend that nothing had happened, that they were never there. But the guilt was starting to gnaw. They were unable to eat or watch TV without thinking of the boy._

_Things didn't get better when that night on the news, they heard a news anchor report a little boy missing, and they had trouble sleeping that night._

_Larson didn't come to school the next morning. Or the next day, or the next. After a week of absences, they had removed his chair from the second grade classroom he had attended, only to replace it weeks later when a new student had arrived to take his place._

_A week after his disappearance, a week after his worried mother had called, the police had checked off almost every possible place he might have disappeared to in Beach City. It was only on dumb luck that they found a bike at Dead Man's Mouth, or to put it more accurately, a passerby saw the bike while on a walk, and called police._

_It was only when they pulled the bike from the water that they would find the pale, soaked body of Larson Chang, foam around his lips, and his sleeping face covered in pond scum, which was also matted in his drenched hair. His coldness and stiffness were the evidence to the unfortunate truth that he was dead, as well as his foot which was tangled in the mess of his bike._

_His mother let out low, mournful wails as she stood over her son on the table in the police station, soon falling to her knees in sobs. Her baby was dead. She was all alone in the world._

_The funeral was arranged a week later, Ms. Chang inviting his class. Only a few showed up, their parents RSVP-ing like it was a birthday party. Nobody stayed to watch Larson's tiny casket get laid in the ground, or get buried and marked with a cheap stone. His mother was left to lament alone that she could not afford a lovelier grave for the most important person in her life._

_When Larson awoke, he felt a strange sense of numbness. Like when he slept on his arm, and it tingled. But it didn't hurt, rather, it felt like he was able to swim and walk at once. As if the entire world was water._

_Water._

_He remembered what had happened, and looked around to see the cemetery, and looked at his feet to see the grave marker._

_'Larson Chang 1994-2001'_

_At first, he cried, screaming in hope to be heard, and that he would be returned home to his mother. He cried and screamed until his throat went raw, and then he just sobbed quietly, shaking as he held himself._

_Ever so slowly, he was seeing things in front of him like a movie screen, without context. He saw a body submerged in disgusting water, as if it were frozen in time. Larson took notice that it was himself, and held his breath as he watched. Night and day passed for a week's cycle until something could be seen dragging him up, and the scene flashed to his grief stricken mother kissing his cheek as his casket was finally closed. Larson felt a sense of hurt that he had not been found for a week._

_Then he remembered the three he had called his friends, remembering as they stared at him, frozen in place, doing nothing to help him as he slowly died in terror._

_And for once in his entire existence, he felt angry._

_No. Disgust._

_A sobering sense of resentment for those three came to the young child, and he figured he'd settle in his spot in wait for someone to come up and visit his meek little grave._

_The resentment soon faded into loneliness as after at least a month, nobody except the groundskeeper came around. Larson just felt lonely in the cemetery, seeing no other ghosts around. He wondered if they wandered anywhere._

_Soon, he decided to leave the cemetery, and travel to where he once lived, if he could remember the way home. He walked on two feet, finding floating to be a little unsettling, because even as a ghost, he felt a horrible sense of being weighted down._

_He let himself age as though he were still alive, finding it convenient to be able to change his clothing and hair whenever he wished, so long as he willed it. It took a while to practice, but he was happy to get it right. He found interest in the stranger hairstyles, even the stretched ears, pretending he fit right in with the other teenagers. He would occupy the popular hangouts, even checking out the seedier ones. He soon found great fun in playing pranks on the civilians._

_He called himself Lars now. It sounded cooler. Though, now he wasn't sure if he wanted to be cool anymore. He saw those three too often. They made him sick, with how chatty and outgoing they were, not even the slightest bit guilty at what they had done to him, letting him die. They had beds to sleep in. He had a casket._

_Every so often, he'd check on his grave in the cemetery, growing disappointed as he saw it was growing unkept, the grass overgrown. He soon learned the cemetery had been closed, and had locked its gates two years after his death._

_Suddenly, he wasn't having so much fun anymore. He just felt lonely without someone to say hello to, to touch, to talk to. It was all just...lonely._

_Lars missed his mother. He began to ask himself why she hadn't come by in all of these years. She didn't forget him, did she? It took some deep thought and retracing his steps, but the ghost soon located his old home, feeling dread as he saw it had since been torn down for a grocery store parking lot. Lars grew worried. What had happened to his mother?_

_He spent a good year and a half asking this. His worry only grew. After searching, and fact finding, he found her new location, several states away. After years of mastering his ghostly abilities, he willed himself to her location._

_He saw a big house, bigger than the one they lived in when he was alive. With a flower garden and everything. It was perfect. Too perfect. What would she be doing in a house like that? It was too different. Lars didn't LIKE different. He was growing more panicked as he saw how big and homey it all was. Eight years of difference, and this is the lifestyle she had accustomed to?_

_He soon found her. Holding another baby in her arms. With another man._

_Lars tears that followed were angry, his sobs loud and ugly, face twisted in rage. His mother had forgotten him, and he truly felt all alone in the world. The hatred, the rage, the bitterness, it all began to build, like a pot of water brought to a low boil, then heated to extreme temperature. He wanted to make sure he wasn't forgotten again. He would make them remember him so strongly, they would never forget him. He made sure of it. He had everything planned. He just needed to figure out how it would be started._

_His wishes were granted when the female officer had addressed him, looking him straight in the eye._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Strong language in this chapter

Sadie had sped for home in record time, fearing the worst of what was to come. She had gotten on the wrong side of a ghost, worse a vengeful one. She gripped onto the case file tightly. This had everything in it, and she needed to have it kept safe. She couldn't let Lars get his hands on it, it had almost everything finalized, and signed to signify the case, the one he fabricated, was closed. If he took that folder and gave it to the judge behind her back, Sadie would be unable to cancel the three accused teens' charges unless she admitted that she had been fooled by a dead child.

Upon arriving home, she rushed in and keeping an eye out for Lars' presence, she quickly hid the folder in one of her secret drawers, wrapping it in a shirt, then a blanket, then closed and locked the drawer.

She was sitting on her couch, hugging Melvin to her chest in utter shock still as she asked herself why Lars had lied about his death, and why he went to such lengths to make it look real. He almost could have gotten away with it, but Sadie had to thank Ronaldo for his intensive studying, because it almost seemed like Lars' steps were just like a teenager's; they had the capability to be clever and successful, but only as long as their masquerade didn't burn like cobweb under the heat.

Sadie felt like an idiot for ever having trusted him, feeling betrayed that after her telling him of her own life experience, he had no sense of gratefulness, and stabbed her in the back.

And she almost feared he'd literally do that.

She'd woken in the middle of the night to Melvin hissing at something, and sat up, seeing Lars standing in front of her, looking...paler. Transparent even. His hair looked like it was laid on top of water, and just floating ever so slowly and gently. He had a smug look on his face as he nonchalantly tossed the folder onto the bed in one piece.

" _You should have picked a better hiding place. That was no fun._ "

* * *

To Sadie's surprise, and initial relief, Lars immediately left after he tossed the folder onto her bed and taunted her. But as she made sure everything was still in the folder, she felt a sense of dread in knowing that he was doing this to torment her. Feeling as though she had misjudged his character entirely, she felt good reason to be scared for her life. What if she hadn't been the first person he'd lied to? She didn't want to know what he might have done to them.

She soon found, after a week's worth of this, that he was going to treat this like a game of cat and mouse. No matter where she hid the folder, he'd find it, and return it to her, everything intact. She knew he'd wait for her guard to be let down so then he could take the folder for good, and have it sent to the higher authorities, perhaps the toughest judge in the state. And then those three he'd framed would probably stand no chance against the law.

Sadie knew Lars would be able to find the folder no matter where she put it. She just needed to outsmart him. She shouted at herself that he was just a teenaged pissy cloud, and that she could beat him at his own game if she willed herself to.

But as time passed, she found herself secretly feeling more and more worried. At night, she'd hear the lights flick on, or hear her phone ring, and knowing it was Lars, would try to go back to sleep. But then things got a little more concerning as she found her TV's circuits had shorted out spontaneously, and Melvin soaking wet by a huge puddle of water by her kitchen sink, one of the pipes busted. Lars' tormenting wasn't only costing her time, it was costing her money too.

She'd worked in the kitchen one evening, and heard a click behind her, and on guard, turned to see her stove's burner was set to highest level. Had she not noticed, it would have very well burned her house down. Sadie felt even more fear at the fact that the ghost was not above threatening her life to get what he wanted.

Two weeks in, Sadie was determined to not let Lars beat her, but already, she was feeling herself starting to weaken. She had trouble sleeping, eating, and focusing at her job, wondering just when she might find herself buried in the ground or feeling the ultimate power of the ghost's malice.

"Feeling tired, Sadie?", she heard a voice ask with derision one evening as she made herself dinner, hands shaking with exhaustion, and turned to see Lars sat on the tabletop, something in-between two fingers.

"Are you...smoking?", she asked, sounding both tired and confused, seeing what looked like a cigarette in his hand.

"Maybe," he muttered, taking a long drag of the ghostly white stick and let wispy smoke bloom from his hung open mouth, "What? Didn't expect to see someone like me smoking?"

"Well...no...I-"

He cut her off, "That's all I need to hear," and crushed the cigarette between two fingertips, watching it disappear midair like flash paper. He then looked back at Sadie, "You have any more hiding spots for me to find?"

"I could go on forever," she grumbled, clenching her fist.

He snickered, shaking his head, "I can tell you're wanting to give up. You're starting to think this isn't worth the trouble. You could always just turn the case in to the right person, and never have to deal with me again. It could benefit you, your career and all," he reasoned, almost sounding legitimately concerned for her.

Sadie gripped the counter tightly, "I'd rather be dead before I let innocent people go to jail," she spoke with steeled nerves.

Lars' menacing glare that twisted on his face almost seemed to say he'd see to that declaration, but the confrontation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

 _Oh right,_  Sadie had remembered,  _I had offered to babysit Steven tonight,_  she remembered Garnett calling her during one of the officer's half-conscious intervals.

Heading for the door, Sadie saw Lars dissipate into thin air out of the corner of her eyes with the most terrifying smile she'd ever seen.

* * *

Putting on a smile for Steven, she let him into her kitchen, "Hungry?", she asked as cheerfully as she could.

"Starving!", he grinned, licking his lips as he hopped over to his seat which faced away from the stove, "What do we have?", he grinned.

"Well, I think I can make some soup with leftover vegetables or something," she offered, "I don't have many groceries."

"We could order pizza~", Steven sing-songed, pressing his fingers into the corners of his mouth to accentuate his smile.

Sadie gave a small laugh, "Pizza costs money, and I think your aunts would rather have me cook you something healthier than that."

"Healthy schmealthy!", the boy laughed jokingly, making a face.

Laughing at his response, Sadie was about to reply, only to see Lars slowly appear behind the boy, staring right at Sadie with a malicious grin, putting a finger to his lips as he put a plugged in blender right under Steven's feet, one of them bound to swing right into the little machine for Lars to immediately turn on. Gasping, Sadie quickly yelped, "Steven!", and rushed over to him, lifting him off the chair, and kicking the blender across the room, unplugging it along the way. Lars' grin remained as he disappeared.

"Woah, Sadie, what was that about?", Steven exclaimed, confused as his babysitter had him lifted a foot off of the floor.

"I forgot to put the blender away, sorry about that!", she lied with an awkward laugh, setting him down in another chair. She knew Lars was doing this to taunt her by threatening to harm Steven. She didn't really want to know if he'd actually do so.

As she fixed up leftover soup with vegetables, milk, and chicken stock, she kept a close eye on the boy, making sure he'd be ok. When the soup was done, she took her eye off Steven for a second, and turned her attention to the pot of soup, only to feel something hit her ear. Turning to see what hit her, her eyes fell upon a spilled box of bright blue powdery pellets, her under-sink supplies cupboard open.

Rat poison.

Lars reappeared beside her with a cruelly teasing grin as he tossed another pellet at the side of her head, and then let his eye fall on the soup, then at her, grinning as if to hint something horrible.

Sadie looked at the soup in horror, not even wanting to guess what he did to it when she wasn't looking. She snapped back to attention when Steven sing-songed that he was hungry, and wondering what was taking her so long. Panicking when Lars disappeared, she gave a nervous chuckle, and announced with strained laughter, "Steven, I forgot, this milk is all spoiled, and the vegetables are probably slimy anyway. Let's just order pizza!"

"But I thought you said that my aunts would want me to have healthy food-"

"We'll have veggie pizza, it's a good compromise!", she insisted, grabbing the phone, and pulled him out of the kitchen, and put him in the guest room with the pizza once it arrived, knowing there was most nothing of harm in there that Lars could do to Steven. Anyway, the TV would keep Steven occupied while she panicked.

Sadie walked into the kitchen, muttering under her breath, "Ok Lars, it's between you and me, so let's get this over with."

"If you say so~", a voice snickered, but no specter appearing to accompany it.

It was then that the officer suddenly realized that she couldn't exactly remember where she put the folder. She'd been pretty sure that Lars knew every place that it had been hidden, and was almost wondering if she forgot to hide it at all. She began to search everywhere, nearly tearing up her house, from floor to ceiling. In the middle of tearing through a couch cushion, she began to think of the worst.

What if Lars had already taken it? What if now, he was just out to break her? Could he really be that cruel?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a scream from her guest room, and her heart nearly stopped.  _Steven!_

Rushing to the guest room, she saw the boy cowering on the bed, nearly in tears as he burrowed under the covers in fright. What shocked her though is what was frightening him. Standing in front of the mirror she had installed in the room across from the bed was Lars, whose reflection in the mirror was more like a hologram projection over the bed, glowing a ghostly white, even his eyes which seemed to have no eyeballs, floating right above Steven, whispering eerily in the boy's ear, making him cry in fear.

Steven could see Lars. Through a mirror albeit, but the ghost had finally figured out how to terrorize people. How long he'd know that, Sadie would never know, but this had to be stopped now, she concluded quickly as she saw Steven shaking and crying in fright of the ghost which was scaring him.

"Stop it, Lars!", Sadie shouted, rushing over to Steven, pulling him in a tight hug.

Lars turned from the mirror, his hologram reflection turning too, mirroring his movements, and grinned to Sadie, " _Fine. For now. I'll be back later tonight."_

As soon as the ghost disappeared, both real and reflection, Sadie looked at Steven, "Steven, it's ok! It's gone, I'm so sorry...", she whispered, hugging him tightly as he cried.

"What was that, Sadie?", Steven asked, still in tears as he hugged her.

"It was... _my own stupidity_ ," she whimpered softly, feeling like this had been all her fault. She never should have trusted Lars. She almost felt like crying herself as she realized that Lars may never leave her alone. She was scared, by how vengeful he'd been towards those he hated, and how hellbent he was on getting what he wanted that he was not above threatening her.

She continued to hug Steven, just trying to comfort the boy, and even herself as she rocked on her knees, trying to think of  _something_. As she continued to rock on her knees, she felt something crinkle between the mattresses, and it suddenly clicked in her head that she had forgotten about putting the folder between the mattress pads of the guest room.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief as she pulled it out, and found everything still inside. Lars never seemed to even open the folder anyway, since everything was completely untouched, including the things he had faked, the things that would be the key to locking the three innocent teenagers up.

Sadie then had an idea on how to end this once and for all.

* * *

Once Steven had gone home, still shaken by the encounter with Lars, Sadie sat in the living room, folder hugged to her chest as she spoke aloud, "...okay Lars. You win," she spoke mournfully, "I can't risk you hurting me or my friends or family any longer, so I guess this is going to be for the best...", she then sighed, "You can have the folder, and take it directly to the district judge's office. I have everything signed, so you can turn it in, and it will be guaranteed that those three will be sentenced to some sort of punishment."

At first, nothing happened, but then the ghost appeared across from her, looking pleased, "Finally!", he snickered, whisking the folder out of her hands, "It took you long enough!", and hugged it to his chest like a prize. Sadie's stare was steely and unwavering as he admired his victory, and with that, he disappeared, not initially noticing her unworried look.

As he headed out for the judges' office to deliver the folder anonymously, Lars felt a sudden sense of suspicion, wondering if there was a catch to receiving the folder. He stopped in his tracks, a few feet away from Sadie's driveway, and just to check, he looked in the folder.

He realized it was a lot less thicker than before, and opening it, he saw there was several papers gone. The only things left were an initial report, and a new concluding report, announcing the case as nothing more than the freak accident it had been known as for years.

Sadie had  _tricked_  him.

"YOU FUCKING  _BITCH_!", the ghost shrieked, voice cracking with rage as he rushed into her house, seeing her back door swinging wide open, and hurried out that way to see her rushing for her car, having heard his enraged shout from inside. Lars began to run, but Sadie stepped on the gas, and sped down the road.

Giving an enraged shout, he turned pale white, glowing horrifically as he floated in midair, speeding after her car, " _SADIE, GET BACK HEEEERE_!"

His shrieking howling on the wind sharply, almost shaking her car windows, Sadie could imagine how her car tires were probably burning the road, and swerved sharply on the roads as she tried to escape the blinding white paranormal being pursuing her.

"SADIE!", Lars shouted again, and growled as she drove even faster, making it harder for him to catch up, " _I'M GOING TO KILL YOU_!", he declared venomously, teeth growing sharply, and hands becoming claws as he chased after her like an angry beast.

Sadie's heart raced as she recklessly drove down the roads, turning sharper and sharper on the curves. On chance, she turned too sharply, and she screamed as her car met at high speed with a fence, smashing through it, and flipping, thrashing her about. She shuddered in both relief and fear as the car stopped rolling, realizing her nose was bleeding, and her leg was hurting, but she knew she had to keep running. She could hear Lars' enraged screams from the distance, and began to run up the hill. In the darkness, she could make out what were looking like gravestones, and had a realization this was the abandoned cemetery. To be more specific, the children's cemetery. It had closed down years ago because so many thought it was a poor site to bury their beloved, only used by those who sadly could not afford better. She rushed through the cemetery, the moonlight illuminating the names of the graves.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a simple grave, cracked in the middle from age and damage from the weather, simply printed the birth and death date of the name she recognized so quickly.

_Larson Chang_

Feeling her legs locked in place, she then turned to face the her tracks, taking in a deep breath as she saw the rushing glow of fury come up the hill faster than ever. With determination, she pulled out the stack of papers she had hidden in her jacket, and a lighter, standing over the grave, staring ahead at the enraged ghost.

Lars' twisted face slowly dropped as he saw the papers held by the lighter threateningly, knowing if she burned them, his case was done for good. He stopped in place, just a few feet away from her, floating in midair still, a ghostly white, glowing brightly, and transparent, like the stereotypical ghost. If anything, he now looked like the horrible projection he had scared Steven with earlier as he glared at Sadie.

"Don't. You'll regret that if you do," he spoke warning her.

"Will I?", she challenged, glaring back with no fear.

"I'll reach your house before you do, and make you even more sorry," he threatened, teeth growing sharper with each word. When that illicited no reaction, he gave a sinister smile, "Think of what this could do for your job. You could be promoted to the highest rank you ever dreamed of. Do you really want to be known as a cop who made a fool out of herself investigating a ten year old case that didn't need to be investigated? Do you want to go back to your job where you only get hollow compliments for what you do, only for you to die alone and contemplating what your purpose really was? Do you really want to go back to being a  _loser_  who everyone's going to  _ditch_  in a few years?"

Sadie furrowed her brow, "You know that won't happen. I know that won't happen. This is only going to be your benefit, with what  _you_  want."

"And what is that?", he grumbled, seeming to regress back to the sulky teenager he was appearing as before his sadistic streak.

"You want to hurt those kids," she spoke bluntly, " _Because they're alive, and you're dead_."

Growling slightly, he snapped, "All their lives, they've been going about happy go lucky while I rotted in the ground all alone," he hissed, "They deserve to be in jail, where everyone will forget them. Just like me."

"Lars, can't you see they've been suffering over these years because of this! They're traumatized from it, and they still blame themselves for what happened!", she insisted.

"Liar!", he shouted at her angrily, fists clenching, "They've been able to go on with friends, social lives, and popularity, living their days on hangouts, games, and trips, not even thinking one second of what they did to me. They let me drown, and they all went home, probably laughing like it was some sort of sick joke!"

"The bridge breaking was an accident, and you know it! They're not responsible for what happened!"

"They let me drown!," he shrieked in rage, "They saw me scream for help, and go under the water! They just  _stood there_."

"They were  _scared_! They didn't know what to do!", she insisted.

"They deserve to suffer what I suffered!", he announced darkly, inching closer to her, "Nobody knows my name anymore, they pretend I never existed. Even those three. Until you came along, they forgot me entirely!," he spat, scowling like the angry teenager she'd met him as.

Sadie glared at him, flicking the lighter on, "Maybe it's for the best then," and ignited the papers.

Lars screamed in utter rage as he lunged at her and the burning evidence. The embers touched him, and his whole being was erupt in angry flames, making him appear monstrous, "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS! I'LL MAKE YOU  _SUFFER_!", he spat in uncontrollable rage. She managed to scramble from his flaming, clawed hands as he tried to clutch at her.

"After tonight, NOBODY WILL REMEMBER YOU!", he roared, flames scorching the ground beneath him, and he laughed almost maniacally, sounding hysterical, "You'll be gone, and those three stupid assholes will be forgotten in jail! We can all be forgotten  _together_!"

Tripping backwards on the gravestone, Sadie broke her fall with her arms, her head landing beside the stone, where she saw the words on his stone. She saw something faded, having been so shallowly carved on the stone it was nearly invisible, but in the flame, she could see it.

 _Larson Chang_  
1994-2001  
Beloved Son

Sadie shakily stared at the raging monster of a ghost that was engulfed in flames, swallowing hard as she spoke, "What about your mother? Did you forget her?"

The flames around the ghost intensified for a second as he roared, "SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!", his appearance becoming more and more human in the fire.

"She loved you, Lars.", Sadie stated, "Would she want you to become like this?"

"Don't you dare ask what she would want!", he snarled at her, in her face, "She has nothing to do with this!"

"Did she ever visit your grave?", the officer asked softly.

"Shut up!", Lars shrieked, the flames intensifying as he looked like a wimpy teenager on fire instead of a terrifying ghost.

"She never visited did she?", Sadie goaded, "She was too ashamed of herself."

"No she wasn't!", he insisted angrily, the field around them was almost entirely ablaze aside from the spot Sadie was laid on. She knew she was getting to him somehow. She took it another step further.

"Did she forget you,  _Larson_?"

Almost in the blink of an eye, as soon as she said his full name, Sadie saw Lars' lanky teenage form regress into that of what she remembered from the newspaper photo. A small boy in his old schoolclothes from when he had drowned, his hair dark black and covering his whole head, not shaved and dyed, and unmodified ears. The only thing different was his face, twisted with hatred, eyes not dark with kindness, but bright and fierce with rage.

She realized what Lars had been this whole time. Just a child. Just an angry, scared, lonely child. Her whole body sore, she stood up stiffly, speaking as she would to a young child, even younger than Steven, "Larson. Did your mother forget you?"

The ghost, no longer glowing white, stopped floating, and stood on the grass, the flames starting to die as he shook in his spot, fists clenching, "Sh-she left me!", he exclaimed, voice sounding like a young child's as without warning, he began to bawl, the remaining flames extinguishing like they never existed. He just stood in place and cried, tears running down his face, choking on his sobs.

"What happened?", Sadie asked softly, looking down at the child who had recently tried to kill her.

"She moved away and had another baby! She was supposed to love me! She forgot me!", he cried, rubbing at his eyes.

"So...you're not really mad at those three kids...you're mad at your mom?" she concluded, watching him have a meltdown.

He didn't respond, he just continued to cry for a while, starting to hiccup. Sadie drew in a sigh, and walked closer, "Larson. Your mom didn't forget you. She couldn't have. A mother would never forget her children," she sat down on her knees so they were face to face, as she spoke gently, face soft and caring as everyone knew her for, "Your mom just knew that...even if you had died, she still needed to  _live_. She loves you, and misses you, but she misses you so much, she got too sad when she came up here or wanted to come up here. She knew she had to move on if she wanted to be happy. She knows that you'd want her to be happy."

Larson looked at her with tears still pouring down his cheeks as she continued, "You made her happy when you were here, and now she still can be happy even if you're not. She's happy in knowing you still love her."

His voice gave a soft squeak, but not a word came out. Sadie just continued, "She remembers you, and if it makes you happy, I will remember you as you would want to be remembered."

The small boy's body began to shake with silent sobs as he lunged in for a hug which Sadie gave him, tightly wrapping her arms around the ghost child's body as he cried loudly into her bosom, "I'm so sorry, Larson," she spoke quietly and soothing as she pet his black curls, not expecting him to apologize for his malicious deeds towards her throughout the last few weeks, not when he had regressed to what he had used to be, a sad, lonely child.

"Ma-mamaaaa!", he bawled pitifully, his tears staining Sadie's jacket, the officer gently soothing him.

Sobs continued to bubble from the boy's body as Sadie continued to comfort him, "I'm not going to forget you, ok? I'll make sure of it."

Larson's cries soon grew quieter as he slowly began to tire out in Sadie's arms, looking sleepy. Sadie looked down to him, having him set on her lap as he lay down, tears still staining his cheeks. Sadie pet his hair once more, and she noticed, from his body flowed lovely pale rose-colored dust which seemed to be making him grow weaker and lighter.

Sadie bid him goodnight, and he gave a sigh as he fell asleep. The rose dust soon filled the night sky.

When there was no trace of it left, and the sky was dark, Sadie's arms were empty.


	6. Epilogue

Sadie felt a sense of calm as she drove across state lines, the afternoon sun bright overhead in the clear sky. She was sore from the events of the previous week, her ankle having twisted and her nose bruised, but she felt better than she had in a long time. The case was closed, the three teenagers were declared innocent, charges expunged, and as far as Sadie knew, Larson Chang, the long agonized ghost, was at peace. At least, his spirit was. His remains had been dug up with the rest of the condemned officer didn't want his remains to be cremated and disposed of without question, so she had collected them, and taken them with her in the car. She was going to contact the one person who she felt had right to decide what became of them. She'd been driving for the last three hours, having taken a sick day just so she could do this in person. It was what Lars would want.

The remains, which were chiefly an aged casket, and probably no more than bones, were nestled carefully in the back of her car. She had watched them dig up the grave with the others, and as soon as it was extracted, she used her authority to take possession of it, and put it straight in her car.

When she had reached her destination, she took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn't intruding or going to end up making a terrible mistake. She saw the house was well kept, and there was a few childrens' toys in the yard, as well as a brightly colored bike by the driveway. Nothing looked secondhand.

When the door opened, Sadie was looking up at a tall woman with dark hair and equally dark eyes, face slightly aged from weariness, but there was a brightness to her features. She gave a confused look, speaking softly, accent noticeable, "Can I help you, officer?"

"Hi," Sadie smiled softly, "Are you Hsu Mei?"

"Yes," she nodded, still looking puzzled, "How may I help you?"

"I'm here to talk to you about Larson."

At the name, the woman's face went blank in shock before she spoke again, "Larson. Died ten years ago..."

"I know, and I'm sorry for your loss," the officer sighed softly, "I'm here to talk to you about the cemetery he was placed in. It's being dug up, and I felt it was important you had a decision in what happened to his remains."

"Dug up?", Hsu Mei looked visibly shocked.

"Yes," Sadie sighed, "It closed several years ago. They're reconstructing the land there."

The older woman seemed to be trying to find words as she let Sadie inside her house, "But...I was saving up to get him a nicer gravestone," she whimpered, "Now I have to rebury him? I...don't know where to start."

Pulling out a few documents as she sat at the coffee table, Sadie smiled conservatively, "I think I should tell you that I investigated the bridge accident in interest of your son. I'd...be willing to help with anything you need." Larson's poor mother deserved only the best.

"I...what did you find?", she asked, looking worried, as if there was a sinister motive behind her son's passing.

Sadie sighed, "Nothing that had changed initial conclusions. It really  _was_  a terrible accident caused by a broken bridge," she spoke apologetically.

Hsu Mei gave a small sigh of relief, knowing that nobody had intentionally killed her son. Though it still pained her to know that his fate was just without reason. Her dark hair had slightly grayed in some spots from the grief and stress she had endured. Even if she went through the healing process, there wasn't a day that passed where she didn't not think of Larson, and imagine him living in her new house with her, with her new at the documents the officer had given her, the woman then spoke, "I want him buried in the big cemetery. The new one. By the forests. He loved the woods. He'd be very happy there."

"Do-able," Sadie nodded, noticing a small girl toddle in, only about three years old, speaking in Chinese to her mother, who responded back. Sadie smiled as she saw the child, wondering if Lars would have liked to be a big brother had he been alive.

Once everything was filled out, Sadie asked Hsu Mei if she wanted to see the remains, but the woman immediately responded with a no, shakily saying, "I can't say goodbye to him again. It will be too hard."

Sadie nodded in understanding, and without issue, followed the woman over to a little shelf of pictures and trinkets. Hsu Mei took down a handcarved wooden box, and opening it, revealed a tiny memory box of Larson, tiny toys, pictures, and writing inside of it, filling it to the brim. She pulled out a tiny pair of gray baby slippers attached with golden strings, speaking with a shake in her voice, "I buried him with all his baby clothes. When June was born, I had to buy things that looked different from his, so I didn't feel so sad when I held her. But...I kept these. When he was born, he wore these home from the hospital. Bury him in these now...I'd bury him with everything else, but I'd..." she began to sniffle, "Rather feel sad remembering him than feel ignorant forgetting him. I feel so horrible knowing I cannot visit him as often as I like."

"He won't be forgotten," Sadie assured, "Don't worry."

* * *

Every year, either on or around his birthday, Steven's aunts would take him up to the cemetery to visit his mother's grave. They would have a chance to reminisce over their beloved sister, and Steven would have the opportunity to talk to the mother he never got to meet. Sadie joined them on this trip up, having wanted to celebrate Steven's birthday with him, and to visit a friend.

After taking a respectful glance at Rose's grave appropriately decorated with the flower of her namesake, she went towards the less crowded part of the cemetery, where she could clearly see the distant groves of trees.

Finding her spot, she sat down beside the new grave, glad to see there was fresh flowers nearby. She put the small bouquet of dyed red daisies right beside the glass lotus candle on the corner of the stone, and right over the engraved Chinese fox that had been designed specially for it. Giving a smile, she gently brushed her fingers over the engraved text.

_Larson Chang_   
_1994-2001_   
_我爱你_   
_我的小狐狸_

_It really was beautiful_ , Sadie had concluded, as she watched Steven happily chatter to his family by the roses, and then glanced to give a reassuring smile to the fox she saw peering out from behind the trees.


End file.
